''Technically that's true but I don't think that's the way he saw it,'' Josie answered. ''He saw it as something that just happened.''
''And you believe him?'' Hannah was incredulous.
Josie let the letters fall to her lap, she hesitated and then answered.
''I believe him, yes. When you're very young you look for comfort wherever you can find it. Matthew was afraid when the world handed him all that responsibility and told him to deal with it. Grace was very needy. The way he tells it, she used to crawl in bed with him because she was so afraid. It started out as two kids looking for comfort and just went too far. Matthew sent Grace away when he realized what he had done. Then he tried to get her psychiatric help. He had never intended to see her again.''
''But Grace loved him so much she couldn't really stay away. I understand all that,'' Hannah said. ''I thought my mom was the only one who really loved me.''
''And Grace thought Matthew was the only one who honestly loved her. Everything she did was for him. The way she dressed, the way she decorated her house, the devotion to his career. She always held out hope that it would just be them against the world the way it was when they were children. When Matthew was forced into bringing her back he played on Grace's weakness for him. He threatened to send her away if she didn't do exactly as he said. Michelle mixed everything up thought. Grace believed Michelle felt as strongly about Matthew as she did. Michelle shared all her deep dark secrets with Grace so Grace returned the favor.''
Josie held up the suicide note.
''That was the wrong move. First, Michelle didn't love Matthew to the exclusion of everything else and second, Michelle realized she had married a man that not only was as bad as her father, he was worse. Michelle filed for divorce, changed her will and then. . .''
''Killed herself,'' Hannah said. ''I can't believe Grace had that note all along and didn't use it to make people understand what happened.''
''Grace couldn't be responsible for disgracing Matthew no matter how much she loved Michelle. If Grace made the note public it would ruin her brother, he would banish her, and she'd be along again.''
''What I still don't get is why Mrs. McCreary committed suicide? Why not just get divorced and get rid of Matthew and Grace?''
''Remember, Michelle wasn't exactly stable. She thought she could walk away but Grace's revelation ate at her. She was sure that somehow their secret would be discovered and she couldn't bear the thought of the public humiliation. You saw what she said in the note. She believed God would forgive her for wanting to go to heaven. It was earth that was full of damnation.''
''She was a total drama queen. What an idiot.''
''That's one way of putting it,'' Josie laughed sadly knowing that was exactly what Michelle McCreary was – she was as unhappy as Grace said she was, obsessed with the trappings of life and unable to live it.
The woman had planned to dress herself in her jewels and a beautiful gown, take an overdose of sleeping pills. The cleaning woman would find her and the letter. Matthew would be punished twice: once when he realized what a beautiful woman he had lost and again when the world found out what kind of monster he was. When Grace arrived Michelle lost it, damning brother and sister to burn in hell. Unfortunately, Michelle fell from the balcony as Grace tried to top her. Once Michelle was dead Grace protected the only person she had left. Matthew. Michelle had told Grace about the letter. Grace took it, hid it and kept her mouth shut.''
''So why didn't Grace burn it.'' Hannah asked.
''Subconsciously, I think Grace understood how ruthless Matthew was. When he proved it that night at Helen Crane's house, Grace knew she had no future with him. She would have gone to the grave for her brother and it meant nothing. So she ran.''
''Then why did she risk coming back to tell you what happened?'
Josie got up, folded the letters and put them back in their respective envelopes.
''Because she was a good person. She wasn't sure if Matthew and I were allies but she wanted someone to know what had happened. Grace was going to disappear because she couldn't do the job herself. I just wish I had been the one to do it.''
''You tried,'' Hannah reminded her just as there was a knock on the door.
''I should have tried harder,'' Josie muttered as Archer poked his head into the bedroom.
''You ready, Jo?''
''Are you flowers here?'' she asked.
''Got ‘em,'' he answered.
''Then let's go.'' Josie put out her hand for Hannah. When the girl took it, Josie held on tight. ''I haven't thanked you for getting Archer that night. I wouldn't be here if you hadn't been watching the house.''
Hannah raised a shoulder, ''I couldn't sleep unless I checked on you every night. I know I shouldn't have disobeyed but I couldn't help it.''
''It could have been so dangerous, Hannah,'' Josie said.
''Maybe if you'd let me stay with you it would have made Matthew think twice because he would have known I saw him with you.''
''I wonder if he'd admit to that?'' Josie laughed.
''No,'' Hannah said. ''Men like him don't admit they're afraid of anything.''
Josie smiled. Hannah was probably right. But Matthew McCreary was the last person she wanted to think about. Josie put her hand on Hannah's hair and drew it down. Nothing more needed to be said about gratitude. It was time to leave. Everyone was waiting.
On this early Sunday morning the sky was overcast. Grace McCreary was dead five days. Matthew had been arraigned for her murder and the assault on Josie. The public outrage at Matthew McCreary's crimes was enormous but none so abhorred as those against Grace the child. Poor Grace. In the end she was the only one with integrity. Poor Matthew. In the end he was responsible for his own ruin.
Josie narrowed her eyes and looked up into the sky searching for a sign that there was some home beyond this earthly one where Grace was finally at peace. If there was, the heavenly secrets were well guarded well. The flat wash of grey wasn't breached by a shaft of glimmering light. She heard the sound of a lonely gull but no angel's voices. The beach was deserted and Josie acknowledged she hadn't really expected a miracle – not even a small one. She gave up on finding comfort there years ago.
Head down, Josie trudged silently across the sand with the others. Babcock looking so decent decked out in his penny loafers and slacks, a crisp shirt and old school tie. His jacket buttoned ever so properly, the American flag pin in place. She smiled, not in amusement, but in gratitude. His deference to Grace was noble. Archer looked like Archer. Black sweatpants, bright white sweatshirt with a hood. His hand was in his pocket. Josie knew he fingered the beads of his rosary. She wished she could offer prayers for Grace. Since she didn't believe, couldn't believe, there was a god who would let this happen, Josie was grateful that Archer spoke for Grace's soul.
Billy Zuni had taken charge of Max. Billy in his shorts and t-shirt, his long hair falling in his eyes exuded sadness. He didn't know Grace McCreary but he mourned what women had lost. Grace and Susan O'Connel had lost their life. Billy's own mother had died in her own way too, disconnected from her son.
Hannah walked beside Billy, a truce between them, a bond between them after what had happened in that small apartment in a neighborhood they hoped to never see again. She looked beautiful. She wore a dress as light as a spring day and a wool shawl embroidered with bright flowers that she had found in Josie's closet. Her hair was braided down her back. Three gold earrings glittered in each ear.
Faye pulled up the rear, lost in her own thoughts, struggling a bit with the sand because of her size but determined to make it to the water's edge under her own speed. Tim Douglas had been invited but he had declined. Josie had no doubt he would mourn Grace in his own way.
Finally, they were where Josie had wanted them to be.
''Here,'' Josie said, even though they were all aware of their destination.
''She died here, Jo,'' Archer said quietly, acknowledging the rightness of this choice
''No, it's where she finally lived her own life. She broke the bond she had with Matthew,'' Josie reminded him before she turned around. ''Billy?''
On cue Billy Zuni handed off Max-the-Dog to Hannah and stepped forward. He walked into the sea, into the lap of the tide that didn't so much roll as it brushed the shore, an anxious hand reaching out for the flowers he placed in the water. Hannah was next. In her hands were the pictures that Grace had cherished: her parents and Matthew, Doctor Wharton, the man who honestly cared about her. Hannah had wanted to rip Matthew's image from the family picture before she offered it up to Grace's grave but Josie stopped her. Matthew was a little boy in that picture and the family was happy. That was the time that should be memorialized, she explained. Hannah bent down, and the hem of her dress touched the water. Gently she released the photographs and they all waited until the pictures floated away toward the open ocean. Though no one spoke of it, they all hoped that these small offerings would find Grace and that Grace and Grace would find comfort in them.
''I guess that's it,'' Archer muttered. He turned away and the others went with him. Josie was left alone on the shore. As the breeze toyed with her short hair she stood at attention, alone with her thoughts, the ocean and the day. Reaching into her pocket, Josie pulled out the thing she had brought with her: Grace's emerald ring.
Lowering her eyes, she looked at it. Turned it. Admired it. Understood it, this symbol of love and loss. Grace's mother's ring that her brother had given her. The symbol of their love for one another, their commitment to one another. This was familial love gone awry. It happened in the best of families in a hundred different ways. Josie could not fault either one, nor could she pass judgment on the one who survived because once she had loved Matthew desperately, too.
Josie breathed in the ocean air. It was cool now, appropriate for the day. Would Grace take more comfort if the emerald was with her or would it be an affront, a reminder of the burden she had borne all these years? Josie's lips twitched. She knew the answer because she knew that little girls who were lost clung to the symbols of those who loved them as if they were magical. Josie raised her arm. The ring was in her fist. She was ready to throw it.
''Are you sure you want to do that?''
Josie turned her head. Babcock was standing beside her. He considered Josie the way he had so long ago with amber eyes that made no judgments only questioned the right and wrong of a matter.
''I think so. I think it's what she would want,'' Josie said, lowering her arm.
''She tried to do the right thing in the end even if it ruined her brother. It was a huge sacrifice.''
''Agreed,'' Josie said unsure of where he was going.
''That ring could be put to better use,'' he suggested. ''It's worth a great deal. You know, Mrs. O'Connell and Ms. McCreary were very much alike. They were very courageous. There are a lot of women like them who can't help themselves. The proceeds from that piece of jewelry could fund a shelter for a year. Money can do so many things.''
''Legally this ring belongs to Matthew McCreary,'' Josie reminded him. ''He would have to sell it. He would have to donate the proceeds.''
''Very true,'' Babcock mused. ''Although, I doubt he knew that Ms. McCreary had discarded it, do you? If what he said is true, he hadn't seen your client since she left Mrs. Crane's party. For all he knows, the ring is out there, '' Babcock raised his chin toward the water. ''He probably assumes it's on his sister's finger.''
''I could make a donation in Susan O'Connel's name,'' Josie mused. ''Just so there aren't any questions.''
''You could,'' Babcock agreed.
''I wonder what Grace would think of that?'' Josie mused.
''I think Ms. McCreary would be honored and so would Mrs. O'Connel. I don't think money meant much too either one of them. They were exceptional women.''
''You're right. And I agree they were exceptional.'' Josie swung her head to look at Babcock. ''And both are very, very dead while the men who killed them will find a lawyer and make excuses and live their lives.''
''And isn't that their privilege, Ms. Bates?''
''It is their right, Babcock.'' Josie corrected him as they walked away from the water's edge. ''What's the world coming to?''